Tip, tap, tip, tap.
The sound of shoes against pavement.
Swish, splash.
The sound of the waves lapping at the sand, slowly bringing tiny bits of rock into the sea.
Warmth. What Dan felt when Phil took hold of his hand and gave it a slight squeeze.
They were heading down the beach now, disregarding the thought that people would be watching, judging. People didn't matter now. They were here, present, living, breathing, existing.
And nothing else mattered.
Dan hesitantly, yet unwillingly, let go of Phil's hand, reaching into a small bag and slowly exposing a beach towel, patterned with succulent-like shapes -- as Phil called them. Spreading the cloth evenly, the curly-haired boy sits down gently, adjusting himself away from the waves. Phil, on the other hand, reached in the bag and took out a dark grey towel -- one that reminded him of Dan, not just because of his brand, but because of the smell -- Manly, like a musk, yet sweet and gentle, like what you'd imagine a little old woman's house to smell like. Phil liked the towel very much.
Dan crossed his legs out in front of him, leaning on his hands that intertwined with the sand behind him. He closes his eyes and listens to the waves... very calming, somewhat mysterious, but intriguing.
Seagulls screech in the sky above, the quiet breeze pushes his curls in an upward motion, his clothing slightly waving. He notices Phil watching the waves, very still, almost as if he were in a trance.
Dan slowly gets his phone out, not wanting Phil to turn around. He brings it out in front of him, focusing his attention on Phil, and getting a bit of the ocean view in the background.
Click.
The sound of the camera got Phil to turn around, curiosity pulling at his features. Dan couldn't help but let out a small laugh, one that Phil loved to here, and he smiled in return.
Dan motioned Phil to come back towards him, in which Phil obliged. Dan made room for Phil in between his legs, and wrapped his arms around him, pulling his back against his chest. He inhaled deeply, squeezing Phil ever so slightly. He rests his chin in the crook of Phil's neck and closes his eyes once more.
Phil smiles, listening to the waves and feeling the calming thump, thump of Dan's heartbeat against his left shoulder blade. He sighs, kissing Dan on the cheek, getting a hum of affection in response.
Thump, thump.
Splash, swish.
Deep breaths.
And nothing else mattered.
